


Those Blue Eyes Lie

by HopeSeed



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, I'm getting to that point, NOT THE FAITH SEED IN GAME, She's basically roofied 24/7 later in the story, THIS IS HIS WIFE, because everyone needs a soft Joseph, okay, okay?, please be patient with me, soft Joseph, there will be eventual smut, warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-09-01 15:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSeed/pseuds/HopeSeed
Summary: Young and impressionable, this photography loving girl is full of hope and joy for all. And, upon meeting who she believed was her one and only, she was willing to drop everything for him. But is he really all that he is cracked up to be?





	1. Chapter 1

I watched intently as my Professor paced the room, my hand poised over a blue striped, light-lined notebook with a brand new pencil, the tip already worn down from the vigorous notes I had scribbled down. Each word that she said, I had heard before, but the way she phrased them, the power behind her voice and the grace in her step, the little skip she did when she was excited...it was obvious that she adored her job. Photography was a moot point back then, but I felt as though it was an art that needed to be preserved, or we could lose so much of our culture and history, and that’s a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

"Photography is art, unique to each and every person alike. What you may not find appealing, say a photo of a pig, someone else may treasure. I want you to remember as you go home that, while you can mimic art, you can never perfectly copy it. The same goes to your own art. It is unique and precious to you. That will be all today. Dismissed."   
  
The hustling and bustling of students packing their papers and utensils away into their bags filled the relatively small room, each person seeming to be in a hurry to get out of the classroom, save for one student in the back. I took my time putting my things away, taking care to replace the lens cap back onto my camera before I delicately stashed it away into its own personal satchel. I didn't want to seem weird, lingering and waiting for everyone to leave before I approached my professor, so I simply moved slower than the others and, eventually, they all migrated out, leaving me alone with the middle aged woman.    
  
"Er, professor?" I called out as I walked over to her desk, my hands wrapped nervously around the strap of my bag.    
  
The redheaded woman peered up at me through her rectangular glasses, brushing back some frizzy strands of her hair behind her as she paused her rifling through her desk. "What is it, Ms. Pillar?"   
  
I cleared my throat before asking, "when will we be discussing Edward Steichen? I adore his work, and believe that his skills should be recognized, even in a small classroom such as our own, especially considering how...simplistic his style was compared to modern day photography, even though his reign over the art world wasn't so long ago."    
  
The professor raised her brows slightly and straightened her posture, appearing to be impressed by my knowledge of Steichen, if only a little. "You're my top student, yes? I can see you are very invested in this class, I like your spunk," she said. "I'm surprised you've heard of him in times like these, with the ever changing population focusing on fashion and such."    
  
"I can't help it," I giggled. "I love photography, it brings so much light to something that could be so simple. A flower is a flower until you add depth of field, and suddenly it's symbolism. Anything can be art! Frame a pencil correctly, and you can speak against the oppression of teachers and professors. A dimly lit lamp can represent just how tired someone is. Honestly, I absolutely adore photography in general, it's an outlet for me, a way for me to find beauty in even the simplest of things and appreciate them as they are."    
  
She nodded slightly, tapping her chin a little. I felt relieved, as I had started rambling on about taking photos, and how ordinary object can hold such a deeper meaning. To my pleasure, she seemed to be a relatively lax person when it came to definitions and phrasing, and she appeared to agree entirely with my own rushing train of thought that moved at a hundred miles an hour. In fact, I found her to be quite enjoyable compared to my previous teachers, especially my photography instructor in my last year of high school. I suppressed a shudder. Even though my second year of college started just a few weeks ago, she was by far my favorite instructor as she resonated at the same frequency I did. She was highly energetic, always moving around, itching to photograph something or teach a new soul the beauty of our art.    
  
"We'll talk about him shortly, no need to worry. Keep up the good work, Pillar. I'd hate to see potential like yours go to waste," she smiled to me as she spoke, resuming her search through the half messy, half clean drawers of her desk.    
  
I thanked her quietly, doing a little bow in the process before I scurried out of her classroom, hiding my glee. I loved all kinds of photography, but the simple style is what really had me head over heels, at least for the last two months. The power some people like Steichen were able to create when photographing everyday things, such as people, made me giddy, and I desired to have that power as well. I wanted to be able to snap a picture of a flower, or a tree, or a waterfall, a person, anything and everything at all, and instill the same amount of joy in others as incredible photographers did in me. The sheer contrast of light that created sharp, clean shadows. The lovely lines, the hum of music you can’t hear. Don't get me wrong, I can get hot and heavy for nature, in fact it's my number one favorite type of photography, stuff like Western or Southern Gothic, but at the time I was going through a basics-on-steroids phase. 

Take a simple object, and turn it into what you love, what you can resonate with and love with a passion no matter what. Anyone can take the most ordinary thing, say an apple, and create a masterpiece out of it. The only question is if you have the guts to take that step, to try out a cleaner, more home-like aesthetic.    
  
Completely entranced in my own thoughts, I only noticed the familiarly faced man when I had crashed into him, the both of us collapsing to the ground. Panic spread through my gut like a wildfire, and I hurried up onto my knees, nearly tearing open my satchel to assure my camera was okay. Sighing in relief at the sight of it being in one piece, I relaxed and looked down at the brunette male. Immediately, I felt a wave of embarrassment flush over my body. I recognized him from a little cafe on the corner of campus, a cozy, multipurpose two-story building that served coffee, tea, hot chocolate, the likes. Anything that got you yearning for home. 

The man himself had incredibly saturated eyes, so blue they rivaled the sky and won, though they were painted an envious green from the yellow-tinted aviators resting solidly on the bridge of his nose. His hair seemed to have been cut some weeks ago, with half of it tied up into a bun in the back, the rest hanging at the sides of his face. He had…such a gentle expression, seeming to be so full of hope and potential and, yet, he seemed lost. Like he couldn't find something so incredibly dear to him. Those eyes told so many stories, and she felt the intense urge to hear them all, if only out of devilish curiosity.    
  
"Oh, my God I'm so sorry! You're that guy from the coffee shop, right? Oh, Lord, I'm sorry, I hope you're okay," the words sped out of my mouth at full speed as I hopped up to my feet and leaned down, stretching my hand out to the man.    
  
He smiled up at me and grabbed my hand, accepting my help as he pulled himself up. "I'm just fine, no harm here. Your name is Faith, if I remember correctly, yes?"   
  
I blinked slightly in shock before letting out a soft laugh, my fingers curling through my darkish brown hair, a faint blush spreading across my freckle speckled face as my mossy green eyes danced away for just a moment before meeting his. "Ah, yeah! I'm super sorry, I've completely forgotten yours."   
  
"My name is Joseph. Joseph Seed."


	2. Chapter 2

I combed my hair behind my left ear, quickly shaking his hand with my free one. He really was striking, this being his prime by the looks of it. He had a full head of hair, his smile was beautiful and startling all the same, like a flashbang, blinding me with a cheery expression. He did look a little lanky, as if he hadn’t been eating properly for someone of his height, though I couldn’t be sure. And those eyes. I could just melt in them for all eternity. God, if I had believed in love at first sight, this was definitely when my heart fluttered dramatically in my chest, and my throat tightened. 

“Seems classes are over for the day. Would you like to accompany me to the coffee shop?”    
  
He dazzled me, so I nodded quickly, not trusting my words to flow out smoothly anymore. His lips widened into a crooked grin, his eyes lighting up like fireworks amidst the cool autumn air, practically sparkling like diamonds underwater. My heart skipped a beat, and I smiled back, my eyes creasing a little in the corners. Lucky for us, while the walk was quiet and just a little awkward (okay I lied it was really awkward), the trip was short and, within minutes, he was holding open the door for me.

I thanked him and stepped inside, the mixed smell of ground coffee and herbs filling my lungs. I took a deep breath and walked towards the counter, my forest-like eyes exploring the building. I had been there several times before, but I was always in a rush, and never payed attention to the finer details. Towards the back of the shop sat a counter, where there was a middle-aged woman grinding up coffee beans, a teenage girl tending to the pastries in the showcase, and a burly, greying man seated off to the side, a hay hat covering his face. The hat looked old and worn, loved by him over several years. Behind them was a staircase that read ‘staff only’ above the doorway leading to it, and off to the side of the cafe was a door labeled ‘Bathroom’ in slightly messy cursive font. The pastries themselves looked tasty, most of them seeming to be made of a flaky dough with a jelly or custard filling in the center, though there were some cookies and cake slices.

The building had warm, brown paint on the walls, with gentle tan streaks and swirls for accents that really sold the whole ‘home business’ vibe. There were picture frames littered here and there in small clusters, each one holding a photograph of the family members, me having counted at least fifteen in all, though I was sure most of them were just extended family. The tables were small and circular, about ten or so scattered around the place with anywhere between two and four stools tucked underneath them. Green plants were hidden away into corners, some even blooming their last flowers before winter settled in, the pinks and blues against the mossy green and comforting brown giving the whole area a very homesick vibe, something that made me yearn to be held by my mother again, a happy nostalgia.

“Coffee, on me?” Joseph stepped up beside me, shaking me out of my inner thoughts.

I shook my head slightly, smiling apologetically up at him. He was about half a foot taller than I was, and though my height was fairly average for woman around my age, he made me feel smaller, more sacred in some strange way. “I’m allergic to coffee, unfortunately. It runs in my family, but we do love tea with a passion.”   
  
He chuckled softly, the noise sending shivers down my arms and back. “Tea it is, then,” he murmured. I watched him step up to the counter, and the girl tending to the pastries greeted him and took his order. I picked out a table by one of the large bay windows that had their business name on the glass out front, the small shelf-like area below the window covered in little trinkets, stuffed toys, and tiny potted flowers and succulents. I sat down and set my bag on the ground, letting my camera satchel rest on the table. I pulled my Nikon camera out from within it and removed the lens, powering the device on before I snapped a picture of the little toys and items. 

The other bay window had a similar decoration vibe to it, with small plants and toys littered across the bench, however there were two large, old looking, rusted over machines that seemed to have been used, at some point or another, for brewing coffee, based on the spigot protruding from the base of a roughly 2 gallon oval tank, which was settled on a four legged base. Looking up, I noticed that the ceiling had some decoration, too, though it was mostly just potted plants hanging from little hooks, and some string lights that would cross the ceiling from wall to wall in arches.

Joe sat down across from me, setting down a paper cup in front of me, along with a bowl that held several cubes of sugar and those minuscule cups of milk, half-and-half, and artificial creamer. I inhaled the steam that curled up and out of the cup, lacing into the air and filling it with the comforting scent of black tea, before carefully dropping two sugar cubes into the dark liquid followed by three of the tiny cups of milk. 

“So,” he began as he, too, poured milk into his coffee, “where are you from?”    
  
“I’m from Midway. It’s a little town in Utah, relatively unheard of, but I love that place to death,” I responded, taking a sip of my tea, which spread through my throat and stomach with such a soothing warmth that reminded me of a cozy campfire on a mountain camping trip that overlooked a sleeping valley as the sun set. “What about you?”   


“Rome.”   
  
“Italy?” I quirked my brows up in curiosity.   
  
He burst out laughing and shook his head, those yellow-tinted blue eyes of his crinkling shut for a few seconds. “If only. No, no, I come from the Rome here, in Georgia. Run down, drabby old place, really not a good place to be living in.” 

I tilted my head to the side, combing my mid-length hair behind my shoulder to keep it out of the way. Taking a closer look at him, he was dressed in worn down clothing, his t-shirt a brownish grey with a faded logo on the front, his jeans sporting several white splotches and a few holes here and there. His hair was messy, though I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t greasy. At least, it wasn’t from what I could see. “Tell me more.”   
  
A saddened look filled his eyes, and he looked down at the scarred wooden table, tracing invisible shapes and designs into the rough texture. “Well,” he started, clearing his throat some. “I had two brothers, Jacob and John, older and younger respectively. We got separated when Jacob went to juvenile detention, and then John got adopted. Now, I am searching for my family.”   
  
I felt a hand lightly squeeze my heart, and I gave him a little apologetic smile, which he returned. I reached out with my free hand, gently resting it on his for a few seconds, and, as I was planning to pull it away, he had flipped his hand over and wrapped his fingers around mine, causing me to blush brightly, and my heart to flutter. I wasn’t expecting him to take my hand in his own, so it sent a sort of...electric shock through me, small yet exciting, and I couldn’t help but focus on the texture of his hand, the mixture of soft near the center of the palm and callused near the more padded sections, the warmth that radiated off of it and heated my hand. I’ve always had poor circulation in my hands, so the heat of his was a nice contrast. 

“Tell me about yourself. How about your family?” He murmured his question, his eyes seemingly trained entirely on my hand.

I watched as he rubbed his thumb across my knuckles, the motion making me smile wider and relax some, the tension my classes had been putting on my shoulders fading away, if only for a few seconds. “Mum and dad are still in Midway, same goes for most of my siblings, although my older brother is away for university in France. I’ve got two other brothers, and two sisters as well.”   
  
“Big family, hmm?” 

I nodded and giggled softly, combing some of the loose strands of my dark brown hair that had escaped behind my ear. For someone I had only partially met a couple days prior to this encounter, and who I only fully met that day, I couldn’t describe how my heart seemed to soar upon his touch, how my lungs struggled to breathe every time he looked at me with those glimmering, incredibly enticing eyes. 

We sat there for hours, chatting and discussing anything and everything, like how classes were ripping me apart sometimes, and my obsession with photography and how my love for the art blossomed. Looking back on it, I never seemed to realize just how many questions he had asked me, how much he learned about my life compared to the few things I had learned about him. It didn’t strike me as extremely odd, though, as times were different in 1998, and I found that I enjoyed ranting about my passion for photography to someone who didn’t quite understand, someone who I could teach.

By the time the shop had closed, and the woman had kindly asked us to leave, the sun had begun to set and the sky was painted such a beautiful golden red, a glamorous color that I could never seem to get enough of. Beautiful sights like the sky sparkling, stars waving goodbye to the sun for the night, they were my addiction, my drugs. Fall leaves fluttering off trees like sleepy butterfly wings, the way gentle breezes caress the stalks of fields and fields of wheat. All of it filled my soul, my spirit, my heart, and yet it wasn’t enough. 

We walked alongside each other as the glistening ball of fire in the sky settled to sleep behind the mountains, casting the land in its final rays of holy glow before finally closing its eyes, the world falling into the darkness of night, only illuminated by the dim glow of the pale moon. We were quiet, though I enjoyed the silence between us, it wasn’t as awkward as it was before. Comforting, more than anything, as I didn’t enjoy walking alone on campus. Nothing to see, too many people, it all felt so cramped. Yet, with him, I felt much calmer, more soothed than I had been in weeks.

Eventually, we reached the main dorm building, and before we parted ways, he asked if we could meet at the coffee shop again the next day after I got out of classes, so that we may resume the chatter we weren’t able to finish when the cafe closed. I agreed and waved goodnight to him, watching him walk away for a while before I stepped into the building, climbed up a few sets of stairs, and quietly snuck into my dorm room.   
  
I was immediately greeted by a squeal and someone tackling me to the ground. When my heart settled down, having been pumped full of fear and adrenaline, I opened my eyes and found my roommate, Evelyn, straddling me, keeping my arms pinned to the ground.

“Tell me everything about him!”


	3. Chapter 3

“You want to...get off of me?” I laughed quietly, wriggling my arms a little. Evelyn, who sat straddled on me, giggled and apologized quickly before jumping to her feet, offering a hand out to me.

I grasped it and pulled myself up, brushing off my clothing with a slight smile on my face. Ignoring how she was basically bouncing on her toes, waiting for me to tell her anything and everything about Joseph, I stepped over to a small desk on the left side of the room, which was beside a bunk bed that nearly touched the ceiling with just a few inches to spare. I lifted my bag up over my shoulder and set it underneath the desk, resting the satchel with my camera inside of it on top of the dulled, scratched up oak surface. 

  
I was tired, as my classes had already drained me, and spending hours talking with Joe gave me energy at the time, but now that it was over, the back of my mouth hurt from talking so much, and my shoulders and back were sore. By the time I had taken off my shoes, changed my jeans into a comfortable pair of soft jammies, and plopped down on the bottom bunk, Evelyn was practically vibrating with excitement, her bright, honey colored eyes wide and full of curiosity.

“Did you stalk me today?” I quirked a brow up, my lips curled up into a grin.

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively, saying, “when am I ever not following you?”

I chuckled and shrugged, leaning back onto my hands. “You got me there. Okay, well...he’s cute.”   


“Duh!”

“Hush up! I’m only getting started,” I said. “He’s really sweet, actually. He’s got this boyish charm to him, someone who is super curious about everything. He’s got two brothers, granted he doesn’t know where they are, and he’s trying to find them. Says his younger brother would be about 17 by now, and figured that he’s a smart boy and might be in college at this time, assuming that the family who adopted him took care of his education and such.”

Lyn sat down on the greyish brown carpet floor in front of me, crossing her legs and staring up at me with the wonder of a young kid much younger than her age of 22. Her sweet, honey drizzled eyes sparkled in the dim, yellow glow of the awful overhead light of our dorm room that gave me headaches on study days. “What else, huh huh? You guys were there for  _ hours _ , there has to be more than just that!” She combed her fingers through her bottle blonde hair to calm herself down, something I noticed she did a lot when exams were coming up, though it didn’t seem to help her now.

I tapped my chin slightly, my eyes wandering up to the old metal bars that held up the mattress above me, humming in thought before I answered her, “well, he said he’s from Rome--”   
  
“ITALY!?” She interrupted me, slamming her hand against her mouth almost immediately after to silence her cry a little too late.

“Shh!” I whisper-yelled at her, pressing a finger to my lips, listening in silence for a few seconds to see if she woke any of our doormates, who were likely asleep due to exams coming up in the next two weeks.. “No, no, from here. The Rome in Georgia?”

Lyn moved her hands, making an ‘O’ shape with her mouth as if to silently say she understood.

I sighed and shook my head a little, a light smile playing on my lips with as I imagined Joseph, my head swaying side to side a little as I replayed his voice in my mind over and over, like a record stuck on the same loop, one that could have been broken yet I chose to see as perfect. “He’s really nice. He even bought me tea! He also sat through all my photography ramblings, Lord knows you don’t do that.”   
  
“Hey! At least I try! But it’s just so  _ booooring _ !” She whined, tilting her head back in exaggeration.

“I know, I know, you’re too modern to handle photography, whoop whoop,” I said through a cheery, light laugh. 

She murmured ‘rude’ under her breath before pushing me to tell her more about Joseph. So I did. I told him as much as I knew about him and, when I ran out of things to say, she was practically trying to shove me out the dorm room, yelling at me in a hushed tone to go chase him down and learn more of him. It took a good few minutes to calm her down, saying that he was gone already, that I didn’t know where he lived let alone where he went to begin with. She only relaxed when I mentioned that I was going to see him again tomorrow, which was a relief because she had left bruises in the shape of her hands on my back.

After another hour or so of us chatting, mostly her describing just how perfect he is for me and making me blush like a bouquet of roses, I was finally ready to drop down and sleep like a vampire, my eyes heavy and my neck barely holding my head up. She wanted to keep talking, I swear she had the energy of a million bunnies, but I simply turned off the light and crawled into bed, making her grumble as she slipped through the tiny crack between the metal railing and the ceiling onto the top bunk. I promised her I’d tell her all about him the next day, and then my eyes slip shut, and I sank down into the world of dreams.

\----------

The sound of my photography professor’s voice was drowned out by my own thoughts, random ideas and humming images that flickered in and out of my consciousness like sparkling christmas lights. My forest eyes were planted solidly on a broken light fixture that occasionally sparked into life before fading away once more, the fingers of my left hand tapping silently on my old, scratched up desk while my right hand supported the weight of my head. Joseph had plagued my mind all night, and while I was tired, just thinking about him gave me some form of strength, the idea of seeing him in just a few minutes fully waking me up.

“Ms. Pillar, what is your opinion on the matter?” Asked Professor O’Shae, bringing me out of my haze of fuzzy thoughts and muddled ideas. 

I blinked in confusion, lifting my head off my hand as I peered down at her from the top row of desks in the small, circular classroom, trying to wrack my brain for a few seconds to remember what the ‘matter’ was, though it struck me soon enough that I hadn’t heard it at all to begin with. “Er...I’m sorry,” I stated. “I was lost in my own thoughts. Could you please repeat the, er, matter?”

The professor smiled forgivingly, the surge of anxiety that riddled me now melting away, the relief of her kindness washing over me like a warm, summer sun as it begins to set. “That’s quite alright, we were simply discussing the controversial photographs taken of the Jesse Pipeline Explosion a few days ago. I was curious to know your opinion.”   
  
“Oh, uh, yes, of course. The photographs are graphic in content because, while they do not depict something outright horrifying on the physical aspect, it is the emotional and mental toll that these photos take on our minds that make them controversial, the whole idea hundreds and hundreds were injured and killed, that they were all people. It shows that, while that couldn’t have been us, it could have been anyone,” I cleared my throat towards the end, my fingers curling into my palms on my desk in anticipation. I had barely glanced at the news when I heard of the explosion, more focused on scraping up some extra cash to see if I could get a new camera.   
  
I ultimately failed. I only had enough money to pay to next semester’s tuition, and maybe buy some shin ramyun for the month following. Don’t ask me why I preferred ramyun as my college snack, I just did. Tastier, I suppose.

O’Shae thought it over for a moment before nodding slightly, beginning to pace around the circular shaped area in front of the first row of students. “Yes,” she said. “They don’t display anything horrifying like blood and guts, but some of the images show corpses, show that these people, who once had families, have either lost their families or their families lost them. These photographs cause us to think “what if that was me?” They force us to put ourselves, or our loved ones, into the situation those at the explosion went through, or are going through, and this makes us sympathetic, something that we as humans do not enjoy feeling.” 

She continued on about the explosion, and asked a few other students their opinions, as well as what they would do in if they were in the position of the photographers, such as, “would you take these same pictures?” and, “how far would you be willing to go to show the devastation of the explosion?”

I let myself sift back into my previous thoughts, losing my awakened consciousness to the somber subconscious. That is, until the bell rang, startling me back into reality. I shuffled the papers around on my desk into a folder, which I haphazardly stuffed into my bag, the satchel with my camera in it resting carefully on my shoulder as I hopped to my feet, making my way towards the door. However, the sound of O’Shae’s voice calling to me made me pause and turn around to face her.

“Are you feeling alright?”

I nodded and smiled slightly, lightly rubbing my right eye with a fist as I said, “oh, yes, just fine. I slept a little strangely last night, but otherwise I’m okay! Thank you.” 

  
She hesitated for a few seconds, seemingly staring me down, before her grey eyes relaxed and she returned the smile. “Alright,” she said. “Try to sleep well tonight, we’ll be discussing your favorite photographer tomorrow, a Friday treat for you and your peers. Have a good rest of your day!”    
  
I waved to her, repeating her last statement back before I hurriedly exited, walking at a speedy pace through the building until I left it, the crisp autumn air filling my lungs with a sigh of relief that echoed through the hollow yellow, gold, and red trees. Just outside, where there was a short wall of bricks that supported one of these said trees like a grey pot, sat Joseph, waiting for me with an eager smile about his face. 


	4. Chapter 4

“What are you going to wear?” Evelyn pried open an old cardboard box my mother had sent me from Utah, ripping open the tape like a frantic child on Christmas. Inside was an embarrassing array of old Halloween costumes, from present boxes, to a random sombrero, and even a unicorn. At least, I assume it was a unicorn, as all that was left of it was a glitter cone glued to a white...ish feather boa.

“I hate Halloween, Evie, you know this,” I whined, a pink blush spreading across my cheeks as she and I picked through the costumes, with Lyn snickering at every other outfit. One of them was even a flimsy paper bowl of popcorn with real popcorn taped and glued to yellow foam.

She peered up at me with her honey eyes, holding up a kitty outfit, one that looked cute when I was ten but would make me look like a hooker if I had tried it on at the ripe age of 21. Completely ignoring what I had said about disliking Halloween, she said, “hey, you’re legally allowed to drink, right? We should get totally wasted!”

I blinked down at her before rolling my eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as I said, “don’t you have that exam tomorrow?”

“Oh I knooow, it’s so stupid! The day after Halloween? I’m gonna be so plastered, everyone is!” She groaned and got to her feet, making her way over to a horizontal dresser with 6 drawers, three for her and three for me. She opened the middle one on the left side, poking around for a while before she pulled out a black lace bra, garters with black stockings, and a whip that you would find in a kid’s meal. I didn’t want to know how she got it.

“No.”

“Come on! You would look so totally hawt--” she pronounced ‘hot’ with an English accent, “--and Joey-boy-ee would dig it!” She wiggled her shoulders and brows to a silent beat, giggling like a child as she took deliberately slow steps towards me. “You know you wannaaaaa!”

I folded my arms over my chest and scoffed at her, shaking my head no at her. She whined for a while longer, and even put the bra on my head, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction and, eventually, she gave up and stuffed the undergarments and random whip back into the drawer before closing it. Instead, she went back to the box and pulled out a Little Red Riding Hood costume, trying to eye it and me to see if it would still fit my adult.

“Can’t I just watch a movie with him in the common room?”

“Oh absolutely not, how dare you. No, this is your first boyfriend, you two are so going to a party to get drunk and become one being, spirit, whatever. Tell him to wear a rubber, though, I am so not putting up with any ankle-biters until I’m at LEAST forty.”

“Is sex all you ever think about?” I raised a brow, eyeing her down with a curious and bemused expression.

She waved her hand dismissively and, after a while more of back and forth banter, she finally convinced me to put on that Red Riding Hood outfit, if only for me to get her to shut up. It was a bit of a tight fit around my shoulders and waist, but otherwise it seemed to fit perfectly fine. She made a few snarky jokes, and pretended to be a photographer by making two L’s with her hands and connecting them into a rectangular shape, and I played along with her little game by twirling on my toes and lifting the edges of the skirt to reveal a pair of jean shorts.

Finally, there was a knock at our door, and I opened it to find Joseph standing there, a few packets of treats in his hands. Upon seeing me in the ridiculous outfit, he burst out laughing and rest one of his hands on his knees, holding up the candies to me. I rolled my eyes and snorted as I snatched the sweets out of his hand, tapping my toe teasingly as I waited for him to calm down. When he did, he sighed happily and wiped a tear away.

He himself was dressed in his regular jeans, though he did have a newish looking shirt with a cartoony ghost, otherwise he was casual and normal. I blamed Lyn entirely.

“I didn’t know we were getting fancy, I would have gotten a bowtie and a corsage for you,” he said, chuckling as he gave me a quick hug.

“Don’t you start with me, mister,” I said as I set down the candies on the dresser, though I did toss one into my mouth. I pointed at Evelyn, tilting my head to the side as I stepped back towards the door, where Joseph was waiting for me out in the hallway. “I’m gonna have some words with you when I get back.”

She waved me off, tossed my fluffy jacket at me, and closed the door when I stepped into the hallway and, with a sigh, I turned to Joe and gave him a gentle smile. He returned it and took my hand into his after I tied the jacket around my waist, leading me through the hallway, down the stairs, past the common room, and into the cool air of the last day of October. The campus was decorated with loads of orange and black bits and pieces, from a tint over the lamps, to jack-o-lanterns littering various parts of the patches of grass and ground in between the lines of cement paths, and underneath a few trees that had ghosts or ghouls hanging from them. Some buildings had streamers and banners all over them, and large wooden poles that held up electrical wires had some posters advertising a party stapled to them at eye height.

He hummed a gentle tune, Amazing Grace as I quickly realized, while we walked. I listened to him with a smile on my face, and while he was only a little tone deaf, I found that I enjoyed listening to the soft song, which was soon deafened by a rather loud booming noise, one that made the ground vibrate beneath my feet. Already, I was hating it, but I decided I’d put up with it for Joe, even though he didn’t strike me as a party guy. In fact, he seemed to be the complete opposite of one, like I was. As we neared a frat house with red solo cups and vomit littering the lawn, however, he tugged on my hand, leading me away from the reckless region of the campus.

Confused and curious, I let him lead me along as we walked past all the well decorated buildings, into a more casual area, until eventually we left the local with all the intense decor and celebration. As strange as it may sound, I wasn’t scared, not in the slightest. In fact, I even felt safe with Joseph, and even if he wasn’t a safe person, there were plenty of people around to hear me scream and come to save me. Right?

He continued to hum that soothing song of his, and within a few minutes of quiet walking, we had come upon the main street of the campus. It was dimly lit, as the sun had long set and there were some cars speeding down the road, likely to get last minute candies for a holiday they had forgotten about. Some street lights flickered as we carried along down the sidewalk, heading a little more towards the middle of town. Well, if he was going to kill me, he was being super cocky about it, since we were making our way to a densely populated area.

We came upon a well known cafe that seemed to be very crowded, especially since I could see a hoard of people and waitresses dressed in pumpkin and witchy outfits bustling around inside. We stopped outside of it, and as I peered into the building, he told me to wait there. I watched him enter the cafe and push his way through the busy people, though I did lose him to the hounds of bodies. I waited patiently for a few minutes before he exited, a relieved expression on his face. In one hand, he had a small tray with two cakes, and in the other was a tray with two cups.

“Thank god, it’s so packed in there I felt like a pea in a pod full of a hundred other peas,” He said as he offered up the cup closest to me, which I took, the warmth of the liquid inside transferring from the walls onto my hands, warming them up against the slight brisk chill of mid autumn. “Tea, just how you like it. And carrot...pumpkin cake? Lord knows anymore.”

I chuckled and took a sip of the milk and sugar infused black tea, which filled my throat and heated me from the inside out. We decided to make our trip back to the campus, and along the way we found a bench about halfway there, which easily allowed us to chatter and enjoy our food and drinks. The cake had a distinct mixture of pumpkin and something else pretty sweet, which made it difficult for the both of us to finish after a few bites, so we simply switched over to washing down the sugary flavor with our beverages.

We discussed the ongoing politics of the world, and within the university, and talked about how calm autumn and spring nights were, how the sky was clear and just warm enough that we could sleep in a meadow of Angel’s Trumpets.

“You know those flowers are poisonous, and hallucinogenic, right?” I cocked a brow at him, giggling softly.

He smiled down at me. God, I loved that smile with every fiber of my being. The glint of his teeth from behind his slightly crooked grin, and the distinct scent of soap and rain and something sweet that clung to him, all of it filled me with a euphoria I couldn’t describe if I tried. “Sweet and hypnotizing. Just like you,” he murmured under his breath in a slightly rasped tone, one that made me melt inside.

He then pressed his lips upon mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, I was left unsupervised.


	5. Mini update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mini followup on the story, my life, etc

Hey, guys! It's been a really long time since I've looked at this story, and I've been wondering how to continue it and from what point. 

The reason I haven't updated the story in a very long time is because my real life has been hectic. I've been stressed and busy, and I also have an upcoming surgery sometime this month (I hope), but I do want to continue this story.   
I would like your help. Please, send me whatever you want to see from this story, whatever ideas you have, and/or where you want the story to continue from (be it the Halloween night kiss, Christmas, etc). I really want to get back to writing, and I want to make something you guys will love.

Thank you for being patient with me. I really appreciate it ♥


End file.
